


Faultlines

by MargotCelvin



Series: The Nature of Losers [4]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: At least lighter than the last one, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, It's a lot of talking about scars, Light Angst, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Scars, Self-Harm, and where they came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargotCelvin/pseuds/MargotCelvin
Summary: Scars were always something that Stan didn't want to talk about and kept hidden away. He didn't realize that talking about them might help them heal.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Series: The Nature of Losers [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502531
Kudos: 12





	Faultlines

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the last part, have some cute.
> 
> I saw some prompt about kissing scars and then all I could think about was Bill kissing Stan's scars as he discovers them. 
> 
> It probably doesn't need the mature rating but some of this covers a sensitive subject so I figured I'd just be safe.

**Palm**

Bill wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. He remembered he and Stan lying back down and turning their cheesy show back on and he remembered Stan falling asleep, but not him. It didn’t matter. He was awake now. He was awake because Stan had woken him up. Not because of a nightmare this time.

He opened his eyes to see that Stan was already sitting up with the light shining behind him, illuminating his hair like a halo. Man, he’s sappy when he first wakes up. He definitely was never going to tell Stan that _that_ thought ran through his head. Since cheesy Bill had finally exited the building, he finally noticed that Stan’s hair looked wet.

“Did you take a shower?” Stan nodded causing Bill to sit up. “Did you go alone?’ Bill had made it completely clear the night before that he didn’t want Stan to be on his own right now. Sam had just invaded their lives the night before.

“No. Richie’s been up for a few hours. He went with me. Scared some other guy that came in to take a shower.” Bill let himself relax at the news. He trusted Richie. He trusted all of their friends.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Thought you should get some sleep. I woke you up a lot last night.” Stan felt bad about it, it was clear to anyone that knew him. He always felt guilty about things that he thought he should have better control of.

“I’m okay with that.”

“I know. I’m not okay with it.” The two boys sat in silence for a moment. Bill let his gaze wander over Stan, he noticed that Stan was wearing one of Bill’s tees and the only pair of sweatpants that Stan owned. What Bill was happier about was the fact that Stan was still wearing the necklace. He hadn’t tucked it under his shirt or not put it on after he took a shower. “Like something you see?”

Bill steeled his face again, not realized that he had started to smile. He did nod though, there was no point in lying to Stan, not when he knew already.

“You’re still wearing the necklace. I don’t know. I thought you might have taken it off.”

“Why would I take it off?”

“I thought maybe he saw it.”

“He did. Commented on it too.”

“And you didn’t take it off?” Stan looked at Bill, surprise evident on his face. Bill really thought he would take the necklace off? He hasn’t taken it off except to shower since he got it for Christmas.

“No. It reminds me of you, nothing he does can change that.” Stan watched as Bill’s face softened, any snarky remark Stan had died on his tongue at the look. Such a simple sentiment meant so much to Bill. Stan wanted to pretend that he didn’t understand it, but he did. He understood it probably better than anyone did. It was so easy for him to compare everything to Sam; he could relate everything that anyone did to him or gave him to Sam. This tiny charm with a chickadee on it and the word birdie on the back, it only related back to Bill.

“I love you,” he really did, he loved this boy so much that sometimes it hurt, but in a good way.

“Love you more,” Stan’s voice was quiet.

“Come on, let’s lay back down for a bit before we have to be real people,” Bill said motioning for Stan to get closer to him, they were both still exhausted. Stan went to lie down when he hissed and sat back up, grabbing onto his wrist.

“Are you okay?” Stan nodded his head, still holding his right wrist against his chest. “Are you hurt?”

“Yeah. My wrist is bruised pretty bad from where he grabbed me last night.”

“Can I see?” Stan handed his wrist over to Bill. He turned Stan’s wrist in his hand, at least enough for him to catch the edge of something on Stan’s palm. As gently as he could, Bill flipped Stan’s hand to see all of the white line on his hand, it blended in with one of the naturally occurring lines. “You have a scar on your hand.” Bill looked up at Stan’s face, noticing that Stan was just staring at the white line on his palm with what Bill was going to call a shocked look. “Will you tell me what it’s from?”

“A knife. It was a punishment. They were usually pretty hidden, but I made him so mad for this one. It was when he was sure that Richie knew what he did. I had Eddie stitch it up but I didn’t tell him the truth on where it came from. He still doesn’t know.”

“I can’t believe I never noticed this.” Bill had returned his gaze to it and had subconsciously began running his thumb over the scar.

“You usually hold my left hand.”

“Still. I’m sorry.” Bill didn’t know how to show how truly sorry he was about never noticing something that seemed so prominent now. What kind of boyfriend was he?

He didn’t dare say that out loud. Stan would go on a tirade about how Bill was an amazing boyfriend and that he shouldn’t blame himself for not noticing something that was, in reality, quite small and hidden.

“It’s not like it hurts anymore. Honestly, I forget it’s there some days.” Not every day though. There were some days when Stan knew about every single scar that was on his body. There were even a few days when they still hurt.

Bill had been around for one of those days. Stan refused to get out of bed and complained vehemently when he was left alone for more than a few minutes even though he kind of just stared off into space for an hour or so at a time. Bill wanted to question that, he wanted to know what the hell was happening with his boyfriend that day, but he didn’t dare ask. All he did was continue reading to Stan after the boy asked him to do so. Bill had still been working on his stutter at the time so they had to take breaks when Bill would get frustrated at words. Stan was still patient even though he had clearly been in so much pain that day.

“How did Richie find out?” Stan sighed but didn’t pull his hand away from Bill, instead watching as his thumb traced the scar subconsciously.

“Sam had texted me telling me to come over, but Richie was already there so I couldn’t. He said I owed him. I did what he wanted, which involved a picture that I had to send him. I usually deleted them right after but I figured Richie was already getting curious about what I was doing so I hurried back inside. When I left again to actually clean and wrap the cut on my arm, Richie went through my phone. I didn’t know he had sent screenshots to himself of Sam and I’s conversation until last night. He was a lot better at sneaking around than I was, clearly.”

“Does Richie know about this one?” Bill knew that Richie knew about many of the scars Stan had. Stan shook his head, in reality, only Bill and Eddie knew about this one. Bill looked back down at the scar, it laid pretty much flat against Stan’s skin.

Bill leaned down and placed a soft kiss against the discolored skin. Stan didn’t understand it at the time, although he could probably figure out Bill’s thought process when he looked back on this event later. At the moment, it was weird, but also a very sweet gesture on Bill’s part.

“Are we still going to lay down for a bit before we have to be real people?” Stan asked, he was incredibly tired still. He would be exhausted for days on end but today would be one of the worst. Bill nodded and lied back; tucking one arm under his head. Stan snuggled into his side, keeping his bruised wrist on Bill’s chest to avoid hurting it more. They would lie there for a long time before one of them fell asleep, it would be Stan this time.

**Forearm**

Bill didn’t normally wake up in the middle of the night. But when he did, it almost always had to do with Stan. Sometimes Bill would go to bed while Stan was working on something only to wake up a few hours later to see that Stan was in the same spot. Those times Bill would get up and tell Stan that it was time for bed, Stan usually didn’t notice what time it was until then. Sometimes when they were watching movies, Stan would fall asleep on Bill’s shoulder and Bill refused to move since Stan was adorable when he slept. Bill would fall asleep at some point and only be woken up when Stan woke up and moved.

Those were always times that were nice. But a lot of times, Stan would have nightmares. Bill would wake up either when Stan woke up violently or when Stan’s vice-like grip got to be too much. That’s what it had been since Sam made a reappearance in October. That was two months behind them, but it didn’t change the fact that Stan still woke up crying or screaming more often than not. It didn’t change the fact that Stan refused to go anywhere alone even though Sam had been in jail for almost three weeks. It didn’t change how much Bill wanted to murder that child for what he did to Stan. It didn’t change the fact that even at Bill’s house, where he was spending almost all of break, Stan was still scared.

Some nights were fine, some nights were bad. Tonight was one of the worst ones. Bill didn’t realize how bad it was at first. He remembered Stan still being awake when he had fallen asleep. He didn’t realize that Stan had in fact fallen asleep at some point and then silently woken up later from a nightmare. All he really knew was that he woke up around 3:30am to an empty bed and no sign of his boyfriend other than his phone still sitting on the bedside table.

He would find said boyfriend sitting on his bathroom floor, staring off into the distance. The light had been on, which seemed like a good sign. Stan didn’t move as the door opened; he was too far into his own head to notice.

“Stan?” He jumped at the sound of another person’s voice in the bathroom. He stared up at Bill for a moment before recognition washed over him. Stan looked away as Bill closed the door and sat down next to him. “What are you doing in here?” 

“I had a nightmare.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I need to deal with this on my own. I thought I could.” Bill didn’t know where Stan had gotten the idea that he needed to deal with this on his own from, but Bill didn’t like it. He was there to help. He was there to remind Stan that he didn’t have to do any of this on his own, that Bill would be there for all of it.

“What did you do?” The question could have come out so accusatory. And had Bill been Richie, it might have by accident. But Bill was a lot better at keeping his voice steady and his emotions tucked away in moments like this. He had gotten plenty of practice with Georgie.

“Please don’t tell the others, they can’t know that I relapsed. I don’t want to see the disappointment again.”

“Is that why you won’t look at me?” Stan nodded his head. “I’m not disappointed, no matter what you did. But I need you to tell me so I can help.” Stan finally looked up at Bill.

“It used to work. It was all that helped before. But it didn’t fucking work. It just hurt.” Bill could guess what Stan was talking about after that. He had noticed that Stan seemed to be cradling his left arm, almost like it was injured. But guess that’s because it was.

“Can you show me?” Stan pushed the sleeve of his shirt up. Stan didn’t say anything or move past that, he just pretended that he didn’t notice the tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

Bill noticed them. But he was paying much more attention to the scars on Stan’s forearm, he knew there were more on the other arm. Bill pushed himself over so that he was closer to Stan, although it still wasn’t as close as they usually were. Bill went to reach his hand out and then kept it by his side. Stan was fine with being touched when it was just a normal nightmare, but this was different.

“Can I touch you?” Stan looked back over at Bill, eyes shining far brighter with the unshed tears that still resided there. He nodded though, it was slight and jerky, but it was there. Bill decided that maybe Stan’s hand was the best place to go, at least at the moment. Stan could take some control in that situation. Bill sat his hand gently on Stan’s, but it was the other boy that actually laced their fingers together.

“Do you want me to talk or just be quiet?”

“Please talk.” If someone else was talking, Stan could focus on that more than whoever’s voice was in his head, because it certainly didn’t sound like his.

“You remember Luca, right?” Stan nodded. Luca had been Georgie’s friend that came over for his birthday. “Well Georgie’s relationship with Luca has uh… changed.” Stan raised one of his eyebrows, silently asking Bill to continue. “It started when Luca came out as nonbinary to Georgie. To which my brother nervously laughed because he doesn’t know how to deal with emotions, like it’s worse than you.” Bill smirked when Stan stuck his tongue out at him. “Georgie’s laughing freaked Luca out, a lot, and they stormed out. They didn’t talk to each other for three days and Georgie bitched the whole time. And then in true rom-com fashion they fought outside of Luca’s house, in the rain, and that ended with Georgie admitting that he laughed because he had finally come to terms with liking a guy and then that guy told him that they didn’t have a gender. So, Georgie has a significant other now. He also caught a cold from making out with someone in the cold rain, so he’s also really dumb.”

Stan had listened to the whole story, but he had also gone back to staring at his arm. He felt so ashamed at what he had done. He had _promised_ that he would never do this again and yet here he was. How could he face any of his friends again?

“Did you clean this?” Stan shook his head, not looking up from his arm. “Come on, let’s clean this up, okay.” Stan looked up at Bill’s sincere expression. It seemed almost like he actually wanted to help. Bill stood and helped Stan up as well, letting Stan use him as leverage instead up pulling him up like he normally would.

The water was warm but wasn’t too hot, even though Stan was still a little numb. It felt nice though. Bill’s hands were soft. Stan was surprisingly able to focus on the hands and not the sting that antibacterial soap had on an open wound.

“Can we go back to bed?” Stan asked when Bill was done. He wasn’t tired, but he wanted more than anything to get out of the bathroom. He didn’t like being in here right now. Bill nodded and motioned for Stan to lead the way. He didn’t like the idea but Bill had done this since October, something about not wanting Stan to get surprised from behind or something.

Bill sat up against the headboard of his bed, and waited for Stan to join him. Stan sat on Bill’s lap and curled into his boyfriend’s chest, keeping his left arm free. Stan stared at his arm, much to Bill’s dismay.

“Can I do something?”

“What?”

“Something that I’ve done once and you didn’t respond horribly to it and now it’s all I can think about.”

“Okay.” Bill slipped his hand under Stan’s left wrist, instinctively running his thumb over the closest scar. Stan watched his every move with his normal careful stare. Bill lifted his arm and placed a light kiss onto Stan’s scar, which one, he wasn’t sure but it didn’t matter. They were all close together.

Bill turned his attention to Stan, needing to know how he was reacting to it. Stan leaned over and kissed Bill’s cheek before pulling his hand away and tucking himself under Bill’s chin, pulling his shirt sleeve down while he moved. Bill wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. They sat like that for some time before Stan spoke again.

“How do you know what to do?” He had already begun to feel better.

“Are you talking about in general?” Bill could feel Stan nodding against his chest. “Georgie has some.”

“He does?”

“Yeah. Not as many and his are on the outside of his leg. Surprisingly, I’ve found him in the same situation I found you in.”

“How do you deal with us? How do you deal with me?” Georgie made sense, that was his brother. And Bill had told him more than once that he felt guilty about what happened to Georgie. But Bill had no real reason to put up with his shit. He could have a normal boyfriend with a normal life, but here he was.

“I love you.”

“But I’m so scarred.”

“I still love you, scars and all.” Stan curled into himself more, keeping himself almost entirely on Bill’s chest. He would fall asleep like that, Bill appreciated it. He could sleep a lot easier when he knew that Stan was okay.

**Leg**

“Hey babe,” Stan looked up from his notes and waved slightly at his boyfriend as he walked in the door. Stan had set up his homework cocoon in one corner of their bed. He felt like his brain was melting out of his head, how long had he been staring at these notes? He knew he should have tried to study on the bus ride to and from the game yesterday, but instead he had gotten suckered into playing Pokémon with one of his teammates.

“You look like you’ve had enough of this for one day,” Bill said as he took the notes off of Stan’s lap, not that he stopped him.

“But I need to study.”

“1. No you don’t, you complain that this class is so easy all the time,” Bill knew what class Stan had been working on based on the fact that Stan color coded his folders, notebooks, and pen colors based on the class, and blue was the online art class he was taking as a requirement. “2. You staring at your notes blankly is not studying.” Stan didn’t really have an argument so he just shrugged. “You want to watch a movie with me? It’s for class.”

“What class?”

“My Shakespeare class. I have to watch a movie based on a Shakespeare play and then read said play and compare them.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“West Side Story. Basically, I just want to roast Romeo and Juliet but also enjoy some Sondheim while I torture myself.” Stan laughed lightly. “So, you in?”

“Did I really get a choice?”

“No. Because I need to use your laptop.” Bill tried to smile before Stan could roll his eyes, it didn’t work.

“Get a new one. Your mother offered to pay for it.” Bill groaned as he flopped down onto the bed next to Stan. Bill hated having his parents pay for his stuff if he knew he could afford it, eventually. “At least get a new one over the summer? We can’t keep sharing one because yours overheats and shuts off.”

“Fine,” Bill mumbled into his pillow. Bill moved his head so he could look up at Stan. He knew the puppy dog eyes he was giving Stan would work to subside the mild annoyance.

“Stop looking at me like that. Go get the movie before I go back to studying.” Bill hopped up and grabbed Stan’s laptop off the desk. He handed the device to Stan so that he could change out of his jeans because why would you wear real pants if you could wear basketball shorts. “Is it on Netflix?”

“Think so,” Bill said as he dug through his closet looking for one of his sweatshirts. He had gotten it from the university bookstore a month or so ago and it was the softest sweatshirt that he owned and if it was too big on him, he wasn’t going to complain. Eventually he stood up and looked back over at Stan. “Quit stealing my sweatshirts.”

“Quit leaving them in the laundry basket for almost a week and then asking me to put your laundry away.” How Bill didn’t notice that Stan had stolen his sweatshirt when he first walked in was something he would never figure out. Or why he was still shocked.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Thank you. Also, I found the movie so hurry up.” Bill rolled his eyes and grabbed a different hoodie and pulled back the blanket that was covering Stan’s legs, which was when he saw something that he really wanted to think was weird but it really wasn’t for Stan.

“Are you wearing a sweatshirt and shorts?” They reminded Bill of the shorts Eddie used to wear in like middle school. They were absolutely short enough to get covered by his sweatshirt when he stood up. But who was he to complain when it gave him a chance to stare at long, toned legs? God, he loved that Stan played baseball.

“No.” Stan’s justification for it was the fact that his legs were covered with a blanket but the top half of him was exposed to their room, which was cold. It wasn’t, but it was to him.

“Babe, what the fuck?” Bill’s laugh made that question so much harder to get out, although it did make it significantly harder for Stan to even be slightly upset.

“Shut up, just start the fucking movie.”

“Can I use you as a pillow?”

“You always do.” He really did. If they had to watch movies on Stan’s laptop Bill would always lie on Stan in some way so that he could watch the screen closer. At the moment, Stan had his laptop balanced on his shins so Bill lied his head on Stan’s thighs, a part of Stan which he enjoyed in every moment in his life.

They had gotten through about half of the movie before Bill let his mind and attention wander slightly. Stan had one of his arms draped over Bill’s side and the other hand was absentmindedly playing with Bill’s hair. Bill had actually started letting Stan take care of his hair for him so it was much healthier than it used to be. Bill liked when Stan played with his hair like this. He had to try really hard not to lean into his hand like a cat, although he really wanted to.

Something besides the movie caught his eye. Many of Stan’s scars weren’t too raised, he didn’t know why, but this one was. Bill let his hand migrate over to Stan’s leg and run his finger over the line.

“You have a scar here.” It sat just above his left knee. Bill couldn’t see some of the other scars like it that Stan had on his legs.

“Burn scar,” Stan was paying more attention to the movie than to what Bill was doing.

“Is it from who I think it’s from?” That pulled Stan’s attention away from the singing people on his screen.

“Yeah. He tried to brand me, I guess. That was something he lost interest in pretty quickly, found it a lot more entertaining to just burn me.” Stan didn’t particularly like the memories that accompanied those scars, not like he liked the memories that came with any of them.

Bill rolled forward so that he could place a kiss on the white line before lying his head back on Stan’s thighs. He didn’t look back to see how Stan reacted, but he was going to hope that he was fine. Stan stared at the back of Bill’s head for a moment before returning his attention to the movie, although he couldn’t get the gesture out of his head.

Bill had done that before, and it had caught him off guard every time. He didn’t know how he felt about it, but he kinda thought he liked it. Maybe it helped him somehow? He didn’t know, but he did like that he was suddenly able to associate happier memories with those scars than the horrific ones that were normally there. Maybe Bill could keep doing this.

**Shoulder**

Bill’s alarm went off way earlier than he would have liked it to. He checked the time groaned. He was the one that set the alarm, he knew it was going to go off this early. He was the one that set it for 7:00am, he still didn’t like it. He looked over at the still sleeping Stan and sighed out of his nose.

Stan hadn’t come to bed until some god-awful time last night and was still sound asleep. Bill did notice that Stan was still in the flannel that he had been wearing yesterday. It was one of the larger ones that Bill had, Stan, of course, had stolen it and worn it over some joggers that he owned. Stan said lifting and practice had been rough the other day and he was still feeling it.

His run was actually pretty nice, it was still pretty cool outside so he didn’t want to die. Bill may not play anything anymore, but he still loved running. Richie told him he should join the cross-country team with him, but Bill’s response was always that he would think about it. He would train more and then come up with a real decision.

When he got back to the room, Bill saw that Stan hadn’t moved in the slightest. He was still curled around himself with the space that Bill had occupied still empty. Bill sat on the edge of the bed and pushed some of Stan’s curls away from his face. He leaned down and kissed Stan’s temple, he was mostly trying to wake him up.

“Stan,” Bill whispered into Stan’s hair, who grumbled in his half-asleep state. “Stan, wake up.” Stan sighed heavily through his nose to let Bill know that he was awake.

“What time is it?”

“A little before 9.”

“Did you already run?” Stan hadn’t moved but he was awake enough to have a conversation, but he was also in that state where he could go back to sleep any second.

“Yeah. I was going to go shower.”

“I’ll be up by the time you get back.” Bill didn’t really believe that but he wasn’t going to question it at the moment.

“I’m still gonna take my keys.” Stan hummed in agreement as Bill got back up to get his shower stuff.

Stan heard the door click behind Bill and relaxed slightly more into his bed when he heard the deadbolt turn. Stan so did not want to get up. It was Friday but he and Bill didn’t have any physical classes on Fridays. No that hadn’t been on purpose. It had. Stan made both of their schedules. They did have an online class that they always meant to do on Friday but that didn’t always happen.

Stan rolled onto his back and stretched his arms out in front of him, not really appreciating how loud the pop in his shoulder was, at least it wasn’t his pitching arm. Stan really didn’t want to get up. He wanted to just go back to sleep, it felt like he hadn’t slept at all. He knew coffee would help, but that required him to get up.

Stan was sitting up when Bill got back into the room. Stan was still very obviously still partially asleep since he hadn’t fixed the flannel that had fallen off his shoulder. Bill put on some shorts and whatever tee was on the top of his drawers, he was watching Stan too much to notice what he put on.

Stan rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as Bill sat down on their bed. When he finally looked up at Bill, he found himself waking up a little more with how weirdly bright Bill seemed. He should find that annoying, but instead he found it strangely comfortable.

“Morning.” Bill leaned forward kissed Stan really quickly before Stan could stop him, he knew what Stan was going to complain about this early in the morning.

“Ew, don’t kiss me, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“Your breath is fine; you brushed your teeth like five hours ago. Also, you don’t have morning breath, like ever.”

“Did I really go to bed at four?” Stan had decided to just ignore the second part of what Bill said.

“Yeah.”

“Ew. Can I go back to sleep?”

“You’re going to complain a lot more if I let you do that.” Stan stuck his tongue out at Bill in retaliation. Stan didn’t know how or when he started doing that but Bill found it really cute so he kept doing it. Stan’s moving caused the flannel he was wearing to slide down his shoulder. Bill caught the very edge of a white line on Stan’s shoulder. It was lighter than many of the other ones that littered Stan’s body but the light pouring into their room made it look more prominent.

“You have a scar on your shoulder.” Stan moved the flannel out and looked over at that one, he forgot it was there sometimes.

“Some restraints to keep my arms behind my back, I tried to get out of it but it just cut into my shoulder. That one’s not that bad.” Stan was still too tired to see the slight clench of Bill’s jaw.

He hated to hear the stories behind Stan’s scars, even though so much of him wanted to know them. What he hated more than that though, was to hear Stan say that some of them weren’t as bad as others. To Bill, they were all horrible, every last one of them. But he also understood that Stan didn’t always mean physically, sometimes it was emotional or mental. This one was just a slight fuck-up, not something that was done with any kind of intention, not like the other ones Bill had seen. 

“Come here,” Bill motioned for Stan to get closer. Stan did so, without any real question or hesitation. Stan moved so that he was sitting with one leg on either side of Bill’s lap. It was mostly because he was hoping to lie back down, Bill had other plans.

“I love you,” Bill said. Stan looked into blue eyes, ones that said Bill was telling him the truth. They had been since he got to know them for real almost two years ago. They were eyes that he knew better than his own, better than anyone’s.

“I love you too.” Stan leaned down to show that he really meant it. Stan’s eyes weren’t as clearly true as Bill’s were, it had something to do with the constant mischievous smirk he wore. Bill knew he was telling the truth based on his actions, how much he trusted him, how much he was willing to open himself up.

Bill let his lips wander a little, peppering kisses along Stan’s jaw and down his neck. Whether or not Stan giggled at that is not something they were going to tell Richie, ever. Bill made his way to the base of Stan’s neck, very quickly diverting to the scar on Stan’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Bill lifted his head to the sound of Stan’s voice. “Before we get too far into this, do you want to get breakfast?”

“Like go to the café?”

“No. Like order it and have it delivered; I’m not putting pants on.” Bill laughed at that. “So, yes or no?”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Stan rolled off Bill’s lap and landed onto his side of the bed again. “I have to order it.”

“Of course, you do. You know what I eat.” Bill shrugged before grabbing his phone to order food. Stan chewed on his bottom lip as he watched Bill. Something was up with Bill and Stan’s scars, but he was starting to think he definitely did like it.

**Stomach**

The party had been surprisingly fun. Stan hadn’t seemed so sure about it when some of his teammates invited him to a party at the off-campus baseball house but Bill had convinced him that they could go for a least an hour. To, you know, make it seem like Stan actually liked his teammates, because he did. Stan hadn’t expected to stay there for four hours and for both him and Bill to end up very tipsy.

They had gotten a ride back to campus from Ben, he had been the only one still awake when they texted the group chat. Bill could see Ben’s smile in the rearview mirror as Stan told stories of the fun they had from his spot next to Bill. Stan had gotten more animated as of recently when he had been drinking. They all thought that maybe that was a good thing.

They had at least made it back up to their room before Stan got really affectionate. It had started when they had gotten closer to campus when Stan’s hand had migrated further up Bill’s leg as he talked. It got worse in the elevator when Stan would whisper in Bill’s ear so that the people in there with them couldn’t hear, also knowing that Bill had a thing with his ears. It had all culminated when Bill was unlocking the door and Stan snaked his arms around Bill’s hips, letting long fingers play with the lower buttons on his shirt. Eventually letting his fingers slip under the slight opening.

Bill had finally gotten the door opened and pulled Stan inside, although they didn’t make it much further into the room. Bill had plans to immediately take Stan to their bed but Stan decided he couldn’t wait and pulled Bill back into him as his back hit the door. It was hard to keep track of where one boy ended and the other began as lips and hands explored territory that wasn’t really new to either of them but was still exciting.

“Did you wear those jeans because you know what they do to me?” Bill asked against the side of Stan’s neck. He had needed a moment to catch his breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, like how I don’t know what this button up does to you.”

“Shut up,” Stan pulled Bill’s face back to his own. While trying not to completely lose himself in the feeling of Bill, he felt hands make their way to the back of his legs. Stan knew that if he didn’t loop his arms around Bill’s neck, he would in fact be dropped, and it hurt.

God, he loved that Bill still went to the gym. He lifted but he certainly couldn’t lift someone up while not breaking their kiss. Also, it was a good thing they kept their room clean because if not Bill would’ve tripped over something as he carried Stan to their bed. But they had done this enough that as long as there wasn’t a bunch of crap on the floor, then it all went smoothly.

Stan tried not to make a ridiculous noise as Bill dropped him on the bed. He did lose the slight battle not to giggle slightly at the act. Stan giggling was a noise that Bill loved hearing but didn’t get to that often because Stan claimed to hate making the noise.

Stan regained what he was going to call composure and pulled Bill on top of him. Bill used one hand to keep himself propped up and the other found its way under Stan’s shirt. He felt no shame about any of this. Bill leaned up to comment that Stan had a few too many clothes on when he noticed something.

“When did you unbutton my shirt?” Stan smirked and didn’t really answer. “I’ll take this off, if you take this off,” Bill tugged on the bottom of Stan’s shirt.

“You drive a hard bargain.” Stan moved just enough to pull his shirt over his head. Bill leaned back down as soon as this was done and started making smaller bruises on normally pristine skin. If Bill kept doing this to pull small noises out of Stan that was his business. At least he kept the darker ones to places that Stan could easily cover up.

“You know what the problem with these jeans are?” Bill hooked his fingers in the two of the belt loops.

“What?”

“They’re so fucking hard to get off.”

“You get baseball pants off pretty easily,” Stan tried not to moan at the slight nip at his collarbone, “And I thought you liked a challenge.”

Bill had to stop what he was doing for a moment to laugh before he could continue, which had absolutely been Stan’s plan at the comment. Bill went back to making his way down Stan’s chest. Something caught his attention and caused him to stop moving.

“What?” Stan leaned up onto his elbows so that he could see why Bill stopped. He wasn’t supposed to stop. Now was not the time to stop.

“Sometimes I don’t notice these scars, guess I do tonight.” Bill ran his thumb over the circular scars that littered Stan’s stomach, they were concentrated around the front of his hips. He hadn’t noticed them the first time they had been together, but he felt like he could excuse it. But there were times after that where Bill didn’t notice them. He felt guilty for that, Stan always noticed them when he changed anywhere near a mirror.

“Cigarette burns. I got good at not crying out.” Bill looked up at Stan for a moment before looking back down at the scars. He hated that Stan sounded almost proud about not crying out when someone put out their cigarettes on Stan’s skin. He probably was proud. If he didn’t cry, then anything else terrible that happened wouldn’t be his fault, even though it never was. 

But that’s not how things were now. That’s never how they were going to be. Not anymore. As long as Bill was there, no one was going to hurt him again. Bill didn’t know how to say any of that. He was pretty sure that Stan knew that Bill was going to keep him safe, but his head was foggy.

There were eight scars that Bill could see from where he was hovering. He noticed Stan’s breath hitch when he kissed the first one, Bill thought about stopping but he didn’t. He continually let his eyes flick up to look at Stan as he continued. He wasn’t entirely sure of the expression on Stan’s face, but he knew it was positive by the quirking of one of the corners of Stan’s mouth. When he finally finished, he looked back up at Stan completely. He half expected Stan to lecture at him about ruining the moment.

“You know I’m up here, right?”

“You’re down here too.”

“Then pick one.” Bill did.

**Back**

Stan looked pissed as hell when Bill walked into their room. He knew Stan had gone to the physical therapist that day, and if he hadn’t the ice pack strapped to his shoulder would’ve given it away. Stan had been complaining about his shoulder and part of his back for a few days and Stan’s coach had finally decided that a trip to the physical therapist was needed or Stan wasn’t allowed to pitch for the next few games.

“I’m afraid to ask how your appointment went.”

“I hate the physical therapist,” Stan muttered. This was not news to Bill, and he pointed that out when he took a seat next to Stan on their bed, “He did not understand that I would not let him touch my back and that there was no way in hell I was taking off my undershirt.” Undershirt to Stan meant the long sleeve exercise shirt he wore under his uniform.

“Didn’t Phil go with you?” Phil happened to be Stan closest friend on the team.

“He did, which is why I just got ice and a slight scolding from Homerton and not like suspended from the team.” Bill was sure that Stan had said something that he probably shouldn’t have to the physical therapist but that it was at least a little less brutal since he had a friend there that he still tried to impress occasionally.

“What did the PT say?” Bill didn’t know the guy’s name and he didn’t really care enough to ask.

“That it’s probably just knots and tight muscles and that a deep massage would probably take care of it.”

“I could do it for you.”

“What?”

“I can massage your shoulder for you to maybe help and that way you don’t have to have someone you don’t really know touch you.”

That sounded amazing. The only issue is that it would mean that Stan would have to present his back to Bill and show him the scars that decorated his skin. But he really wanted to stop being in pain. But he didn’t know if he was really ready to show Bill this part of him. It had been almost two years and he had been able to avoid a moment like this.

He knew Bill would ask questions; he always did. He knew he had answers; ones he didn’t want to share though. Well for the most part. But he also knew that keeping all of this information in was bad for him. He couldn’t keep it all in anymore. And it would be easier to explain if Bill could see it.

Stan sighed before agreeing. Bill helped him get rid of the ice pack so it didn’t melt and leak water all over their carpet or bed, again. Stan sat near the edge of their bed and waited for Bill to take his seat behind him. He had lost his upper layers by the time Bill was settled. If he commented that he was already cold and Bill rolled his eyes at the comment, then no one would be surprised.

Bill dug his thumb into one of the muscles of Stan’s back, the slight moan let Bill know that he was hitting the right spot. He hadn’t asked Stan where was bothering him since he had watched Stan try to hit this spot for weeks before deeming it bad enough to see someone else for help.

“Holy shit, you’re good at that.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you good at this?”

“Did you forget that I have a pitcher as a little brother who also has issues with people he doesn’t really know touching him?” Stan nodded, “I’m telling Georgie you forgot about his existence.”

“Please don’t. He’ll be pissed at me for months…” Stan trailed off when Bill found the other spot that had been bugging him.

“You need to stretch more before you start pitching.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. You’re just ruining the moment.” Bill didn’t say anything and went back to kneading tight muscles so that his boyfriend didn’t hurt himself.

This was one of the first times Bill had gotten to look at Stan’s back long enough to look at the scars there. Stan had gotten better with a lot of his scars being seen, the ones on his arms being the biggest exception besides these ones. They were long and jagged and if Bill let himself think about it too long he could imagine muffled screams and a broken boy trying so hard not to cry out.

“Ow,” Bill pulled his hands back at Stan’s complaint.

“Sorry.”

Stan turned to look at Bill before asking, “What just happened?”

“You’re not going to like the answer to that question so let’s pretend you didn’t ask it.”

“You know…” Stan sighed out of his nose before continuing, “I’m okay with you seeing them.”

“Can I ask questions?” Bill was a curious person and he liked to know why people did things or try to figure out their emotions. He knew that they had already come really far with these scars and he was a little curious as to how far he could push this subject before it seemed like Stan was going to shut down.

“I will refuse to answer some of them, but we can try,” Stan turned back around as he answered. This was already going better than Bill had expected. Bill went back to massaging his shoulder for a moment.

“Were all of these punishments?”

“No. He just liked doing these ones.”

“Did you have Eddie stitch them up?”

“Most of them. Sometimes they weren’t that deep, so I just let them heal on their own.”

“What makes these ones so much worse than the others?” Bill was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get an answer, but it was the question that he was dying to have one to. Bill had stopped applying actual pressure to Stan’s back and had just let his thumb run over the scar that he could reach.

“They were the only ones that I was allowed to cry out for. Sometimes I would, just wishing that someone could hear me, although I know no one could. He took so much pleasure in these ones, it made the rest of the night worse when he started with these,” Bill could hear the sadness Stan was trying so hard to hide, “Him in a good mood was almost worse than him in a bad mood, as long as it wasn’t me he was angry at.”

Had Bill thought about it for more than a second, he probably wouldn’t have leaned forward and placed the softest of kisses on the scar that sat the highest on Stan’s right shoulder. But this was Bill, and the rational part of his brain exited the building whenever his boyfriend was sad. Stan turned around to face him.

“Fuck, that was probably the wrong thing to do.”

“No, it was the perfectly right thing to do.”

“Really?” Stan nodded. He leaned around Bill and grabbed a sweater out of the laundry basket, who knows who it belonged to originally. He slipped it on and leaned back into Bill’s chest.

They would never really talk about why Bill had a thing for kissing Stan’s scars and they certainly would never really talk about why Stan liked it. But they didn’t need to. This was all a strange part of Stan’s healing and Bill would play any part he needed to.

And Stan was eternally grateful for that.

**Author's Note:**

> I am mostly just glad that this series is finished. 
> 
> Come fangirl with me/say hello on my Tumblr or Twitter. Both are @MargotCelvin !
> 
> Leave some comments and kudos if you wish, they fuel and terrify me.


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